


The Act of Becoming a Hero

by chrisker nivanfield (nnivanfields)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, but it's real, canon-divergence, chris and piers don't know how to relationship, comfort through sex, finn is a major character, my attempt at fixing canon, piers doesn't die, rip my best boy, you may not think it is rn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23538529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnivanfields/pseuds/chrisker%20nivanfield
Summary: Chaos has made itself redundant. Night after night, it's always the same thing. Men seek comfort in their struggles, and the physical and emotional come together and become indistinguishable from one another. There's no time to put a name to it--the world is depending on them.Also known as the angsty, pining, Nivanfield-heavy fanversion of Chris' campaign on RE6.
Relationships: Piers Nivans & Finn Macauley, Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield, The BSAA in general, they're all friends okay - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	The Act of Becoming a Hero

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't my first Resident Evil work, but considering the last time I wrote one was in 2009, I'd rather not cross that bridge LMFAO. 
> 
> SO LET'S JUST CALL THIS MY FIRST OFFICIAL RESIDENT EVIL WORK AHAHAHA.
> 
> Anyway, some details are going to be off because a) I'm not a thousand percent caught up on the entire Resident Evil franchise (meaning the comics--Marhawa Desire I'm lookin at u) and b) I'm intentionally diverting somewhat from the canon of the game. I hope this isn't too off-putting.
> 
> In any case, I've not got much of this work planned, but I do have a very vague timeline as to what I want to do. If you're feeling something dramatic and Nivanfield-heavy with an attempt at fixing canon as well as a growing, powerful friendship between Piers and Finn, you're at the right work. 
> 
> Enjoy, everyone!

It’s just another night. Just another night, following just another mission, staying in just another shoddy hotel room. It’s just another night of shedding layer upon layer of tactical gear, cleaning weapons, of Piers washing dirt and death and grime off his face. It’s just another long night of staring at his reflection, wondering when all of this is going to be over.

Compared to the vast scale of the world, the BSAA is microscopic. It’s grown significantly since it was founded, but it’s still nothing compared to the threats that crop up all over the world. And while Piers knows his team isn’t the only one, it still feels like he’s fighting a losing battle.

He casts a glance to the bed, which he can see directly from the hotel’s washroom. Chris is turned over on his side, but Piers isn’t fully certain the other man is actually asleep. He’s been still long enough to be, but not unlike Piers, Chris’ mind wanders. And it’s understandable, because he’s been fighting this battle for over a decade. Piers has seen plenty since he joined the BSAA, but he can’t imagine just how much Chris has seen.

Piers admires his captain. Chris is resilient and strong, and while he is so obviously tired, he has no problem getting up and heading for the next mission. He witnessed the onset of bioterrorism, and he’s been fighting it ever since. His mission as Alpha Team’s captain of the BSAA is probably more like the blood that courses through his veins.

When Chris recruited Piers, he’d caught him during a time when he was disillusioned with his current status in life. He had been and still was passionate about what he’d been doing at the time. It had been all he had ever wanted to do as a kid. But when the world changed and Chris Redfield came into the picture, he had felt something not unlike excitement at the prospect of putting an end to bioterrorism. And Chris’ passion about it had awakened something inside Piers that he hadn’t even known he’d possessed.

Chris is a lot of things. He’s cocky, and he’s stubborn. He’s impulsive, and he has a shorter temper than even Piers himself. But he’s good to his men, and he’s brave when they can’t be. He views them as individuals, and the knows them all by name. He has the tendency to get caught up in his own head during missions, but Piers is usually there to help reign him in. And it’s quite simply because Piers thinks that Chris is _exactly_ what this world needs right now.

Piers turns his attention back to the mirror as he strips down. There’s no door dividing the restroom and the rest of the hotel room, and the snowy scenery peering at them through the one window in the hotel room is damn near bright enough that Piers could shower without the light on. He’s almost tempted to, but instead just steps into the stall and washes up.

You don’t realize just how exposed you are to infection until you get the chance to try and wash it all off. Every time, Piers is disgusted by the green-brown rivulets that course over his chest and run down his body with the shower spray. The hotels never retain hot water long enough to stand in as long as Piers always wants to, and he’s often left shivering with how long he spends scrubbing at it anyway. It’s never satisfying until the water runs clean.

Chris is the same way. Piers makes a point to wait a good hour before following his captain’s shower with his own, because Chris uses up all the hot water every time, without fail. Understandably. As Piers manages to scrub until he’s satisfied, he smiles at the thought.

Piers dries himself off and slips on his now-clean pair of boxers, as well as a tee shirt. He brushes his teeth, and then kills the bathroom light and heads out into the living area. The goal is to attempt to get some sleep before they all head out bright and early the next morning, but Piers’ mind is racing.

It's not much different from how other nights tend to go, but tonight, it’s just more of a challenge to fall asleep. Piers has no logical explanation as to why, considering it would have only made more sense if this had been his first night on the team, but he’s been at this for years and his mind suddenly chooses today of all days to hang up on it.

He stops by the window and gazes outside. It’s snowing here, and it has been since long before they got to the hotel. The fierce snowstorm is a part of why they’d decided to stop as early as they had. They’re heading out in the morning regardless of what the end result is, but the cold had been so violent and bitter, and the infected that had attempted to confront them during their last stop had still covered their bodies. Everyone had been aching for a shower and an actual bed for once.

What’s going to happen tomorrow? Are they ever going to hit a point where they feel like they’re making progress? Right now, Piers doesn’t have much hope about it. It’s not going to do anything to change his mind about his commitment to the BSAA, but he hasn’t been at this for near as long as Chris, and he’s already doubting their efforts.

How _has_ Chris been at this for as long as he has?

Piers turns his focus to his captain, whose eyes are closed. He’s lying on his side with his arms across his chest, looking as surly and uncomfortable as ever. Piers scoffs softly at the sight, before he turns his focus back to the window.

“The hell’re you still doing awake?”

Piers turns his focus to Chris, who still hasn’t uncrossed his arms. His eyes are open and somewhat hazy from either having been sleeping or having gotten close to falling asleep. He’s frowning at Piers like something is wrong. It’s really nothing—just a mild case of overthinking.

Piers shrugs his shoulders. “I just got done showering.”

“Right.” Because Chris understands that. His own showers take that long. “Lie down, then. You’re gonna need the rest.”

Piers hesitates there, and he knows his captain sees it. He’s not going to fall asleep regardless of what position he’s in. He’s going to lie awake with his gaze focused on the ceiling and wake up feeling like hell just a few hours after he finally _does_ fall asleep.

“What’s on your mind?” Chris props himself up on his elbow, and his frown deepens. His gaze pierces right through Piers’ skull.

Piers shakes his head. “It’s not that big of a deal. Go back to sleep.”

Chris isn’t satisfied with that answer. “Talk to me, Piers.”

He doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want to confess to his captain that he’s starting to question the power of the BSAA. He doesn’t want to kick sand in Chris’ face like that. And while his loyalty to the BSAA isn’t going anywhere no matter how much questioning he does, he doesn’t want Chris to think even for a second that it is.

“Piers,” Chris repeats, this time a bit more firmly. “Come on. I’m here for you—you know that.” He lets out a frustrated sigh, and then gestures toward the bed. “Fine. I won’t make you lie down. But at least sit and tell me what’s going on, will you?”

How can he say no to that? Very reluctantly, Piers makes his way to the edge of the bed. Chris scoots enough that he has room to sit down, and Piers responds with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m okay, alright? I’m fine. I’m just doing a lot of thinking.”

Chris’ nod tells Piers he has a good idea of where he’s headed with his words, but his gaze doesn’t waver. He still stares Piers down, awaiting a continued explanation.

Piers complies. “Do you think there’ll ever be a time when we don’t have to do this?” He gestures around him with both hands. “The BSAA, I mean. We’re _good_ , and I don’t doubt that we can complete any mission we’re assigned, but when comes the part where there _aren’t_ any more missions? Isn’t that the goal?”

The look on Chris’ face tells Piers that this is a thought the captain himself has had before. His expression is empathetic, as he props himself up a little more.

“That’s the goal, alright,” Chris responds, smiling almost pitifully at his partner. “But it’s a big goal, and we’re only human. I still question it, and I can tell you right now that we’ve still got a hell of a long way to go.”

Piers turns his gaze toward the window, scowling out at the world beyond their hotel room. He’s not tired of fighting—he’s got plenty of fight left in him—but where does the BSAA go about tracking their progress? How does he know for certain that they’re doing any good?

“You want to know how I know we’re winning?” Chris knows Piers too well. Of course he doesn’t have to say anything for the guy to know what he’s thinking.

Piers turns his head to regard Chris once more, waiting for an answer. Chris himself is a bit of a broody personality these days, but right now, he’s wearing something of a smirk.

“I spent ten years chasing after Albert Wesker, and just about three years ago, I finally killed him.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Wesker is just one person, sure, but he was one of the first. There will be more, and we’ll take them down. And even if it doesn’t reflect in our lifetime, we’ve helped slow the spread of something that could end the world.”

Chris is right, and Piers is sure he can tell he knows it, because his own scowl softens considerably. Still, the captain keeps speaking.

“This isn’t about us, Piers. It’s about the future.”

“I know that, Captain.”

“Piers.” Chris’ voice soft when Piers was sure it was going to be firm. He turns to look at the other man, somehow feeling smaller under those softer words than he would if they’d have been more stern. “You have to understand what I mean by that. You’re not insignificant.”

“I know—”

Chris raises his hand to cut Piers off. “No, you don’t.” His eyes hold Piers rooted to the spot, unable to look away. “You understand that you’re making a difference, but you don’t know the weight of it, yet. Right now, you feel like we’re just bouncing from mission to mission. But when it all comes together—and it’s going to, Piers—you’re going to remember every little thing you ever did to get to that point, and you’re going to be _proud_. I promise you, okay?”

“Captain…” Piers frowns deeply.

Chris just smiles up at him, and through the moonlight, Piers thinks he can see even more of the meaning behind those eyes. “Don’t give up on me yet, okay?”

No way in hell is Piers giving up. Even without this little pep talk (which worked wonders, by the way), he’s not going anywhere. He’s always going to be by Chris’ side, as long as he’s still alive.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Piers smirks, and Chris lights up like a damned Christmas tree.

“Good. Then come to bed, already.”

Piers scoffs. “I thought you said you weren’t going to make me lie down.”

“The ‘yet’ was silent,” Chris retorts almost instantly. “It’s late, Piers. C’mon…”

Another scoff. “You’re more than welcome to go to sleep yourself, you know.”

“I don’t want to,” Chris replies, and the stubbornness in those words returns Piers’ focus to him. “Not unless you’re here too.”

The gravity of those words hits both men at the same time. Piers is left gaping at Chris, who is gaping back and looking something like a fish out of water as he tries to figure out how to explain himself. He somehow avoids stammering as he continues on. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. I just want you to try and sleep.”

Piers stares at the other man for a good, long time, as if doing so might draw some other explanation out of him. What kind of statement is he hoping for? Either way, he lets out a sigh and crawls over Chris, taking up the other side of the bed. His head hits the pillow and he brings a forearm up to cover his eyes.

“Better?”

The silence that follows is actually somewhat alarming. Piers turns his head away from his forearm to glance at his captain, shocked by his lack of response. When he sees that Chris is just watching him, he’s even more surprised. It’s in the _way_ Chris is looking at him. He looks an odd mixture of happy and sad, like bittersweet. Like how the sun looks over the horizon as it’s making its departure for the night and relinquishing control to the moon. Piers can’t look away.

“…Captain?”

Chris shakes his head, smiling sadly. “It’s just that I’m so glad you joined the BSAA.”

Piers frowns. He doesn’t feel like that’s all of it. “I’m happy to be here…are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Chris answers easily. “Never better. I’ve just…I’ve had this mental debate before, and it took me _years_ to come to a consensus on it. I’m impressed by how strong you are, because I can already tell this hasn’t changed your standpoint at all.”

Of course not. Piers isn’t going anywhere. This is for the sake of saving the entire _world_ , and he’ll die for that if he has to. But there’s also the fact that Chris is heavily involved in it, and ever since having been scouted by the good captain, Piers himself has been heavily involved in protecting Chris. The guy has a tendency to get reckless, and most times, Piers is successful in reeling him back in.

Most times.

“I’ve got a lot of reason to fight,” Piers finally answers, turning and propping himself up on his elbow.

“We all do.” Despite that standard response, Piers thinks that Chris understands what his words actually mean. It’s in the way Chris continues to stare up at him, and how he draws himself closer. When a hand comes up and touches the side of Piers’ face, the contact burns with the heat of a longing Piers hadn’t even realized he’d possessed until now. “I don’t think I could do it without you.”

Piers inhales sharply, before he leans in himself. “You’d find a way, Captain. You always do.”

The kiss is _everything_. It’s more than the snow capturing glimpses of the moonlight outside, and it’s more than the chill in the air around them. It’s more than the mountains their hotel is located in, and more than the stars somehow finding spots to twinkle down from the sky in. It’s soft and it’s sweet and it’s so damned different from what Piers is used to. As partners on the field, Piers and Chris are a relatively aggressive partnership, but this…this is so much different.

More often than not, BSAA operatives work thirty-six-hour shifts, if not longer. They’re usually manic with exhaustion by the time they find themselves back in relative safety, and their sleeps tend to take place in helicopters or remote hotel rooms. They don’t recuperate nearly enough before it’s time to head to their next mission. So this moment, where the two men seek solace in one another, is a rare treat.

Piers knows that, so he takes his time. He kisses his captain slowly, letting his eyes fall shut and his lips feel the way Chris’ own move against his. His stubble scratches at Piers’ chin and cheeks as he tips his head and parts his lips into the kiss.

It’s Chris who takes the initiative. He places a hand on Piers’ shoulder and guides him onto his back on the bed, where he moves to straddle him. Chris is broad and muscular and all-but towers over Piers in this position, and Piers shamelessly drinks in the sight. He brings his own hands up to push his captain’s shirt up, and when Chris moves to tug it over his head and off, Piers watches the way he looks doing that too.

He shrugs his own shirt off just in time for Chris to lean down and capture his lips once more, bringing both his hands up to cup either side of the other man’s neck. This time, the kiss is more heated. Chris has set the pace up a few notches, and Piers can’t bring himself to complain.

Piers feels Chris settle between his legs, their bodies coming together fully, and the warmth between the two of them is insanely comforting. The hotel room isn’t the warmest place to stay in, but Piers can’t really blame the hotel itself, considering there’s a snowstorm raging outside. There’s a fireplace, but that requires gathering wood and getting up out of bed, which Piers is very much too occupied to do.

He’ll settle for what he has. He curls his arms around Chris’ frame and tips his head to break off the kiss, instead paying attention to his captain’s stubbled jawline. Piers can smell the soap on his skin from the shower he’d taken earlier. He savors it as he nips at the corner of Chris’ jaw.

They don’t get much. They’re hardly in a position where they have the ability to seek this kind of physical comfort in one another anyway. No lube, no condoms. Still, when Chris reaches down to shove at Piers’ boxers, he doesn’t stop him. He kicks them off and away soon enough, and then shoves his own hand down into his captain’s underwear to free him from the confines.

They’ve been making out for all of thirty seconds, but they’re both mostly there already. Piers’ mouth falls open as Chris spits into his hand and curls those long fingers around him. His head hits the pillow and falls to the side at the special attention Chris pays to the head, before he starts pumping him to full arousal.

Piers’ hands are in Chris’ hair as he bucks up into that hand. He can feel the pressure of Chris’ own erection pressed between their bodies, and how he rocks his hips and uses the close contact as a source of friction. Piers briefly finds himself wishing he could have Chris inside him—hear the way he responds to being able to feel him from the inside.

But for now, he reciprocates. He spits into one of his own hands and slides it down, shifting until he can feel himself rubbing up against his own captain. He wraps his fingers around both their arousals and rocks his hips once, experimentally.

Chris moans outright, and somehow, Piers tells himself he should have expected his boss to be fairly vocal. He’s loud about just about everything else, after all. A fond smile finds its way onto his lips at that thought.

Piers likes the way Chris buries his face in his shoulder as their bodies start moving together. He likes the way both of Chris’ hands slide beneath his body and take hold of his ass, pulling them closer together. He himself moans as they pick up the pace.

It’s just their bodies moving together, their panting breaths, and the pleasured moans that escape them every so often, and Piers is on cloud nine.

When he hits his peak, it’s with a stammering, shaky series of moans and curses, before heat and moisture fills the gap between them. Chris’ release follows just a couple of thrusts later, and when he comes, it’s as he bites down on the crook of Piers’ neck. It’s a sharp bite that goes straight to Piers’ groin, and he thanks his lucky stars that he’s just finished getting off, because had it been a couple of minutes later, he’d be ready to go again.

And like Chris had voiced, they have a long day ahead of them tomorrow.

The exhaustion hits hard after that. Chris gets up and brings a rag from the restroom, cleaning them both up, before he plops back down onto the bed. Piers is almost nervous about everything, until his captain turns and slides an arm around his waist. He buries his face right in the crook of Piers’ neck, where he’d bitten him, and breathes out one statement amidst a sigh.

“Now, go to sleep, Piers. I’m not gonna feel sorry for you if you look like shit in the morning.”

Piers just scoffs. “Roger that, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to any and all of you who gave this fic a read and took the time to leave a kudos/comment/bookmark! ; w;


End file.
